


The Greatest Bastard

by burgersfromspace



Category: Logan (2017) - Fandom, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst, Logan (2017), Logan (2017) Spoilers, Logan Needs A Hug, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 14:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10310612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burgersfromspace/pseuds/burgersfromspace
Summary: Everything's fallen apart and Logan thought he could do it all himself. With you by his side, however, he'd realized it was better than being alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: There are two MAJOR spoilers for the film Logan in this piece! Read at your own risk!!

Logan was formidable, strong, a man of absolute power embedded into his presence alone, he was a man who took shit from no one.

No one but you.

It was _something_ about you that shook the man to his very bones, something about you that made his fingers tremble and his chest tighten.

Fear. Perhaps not fear of you- Logan had no reason to fear you. It was fear of the way you were. Too kind, giving, filled with noble righteousness and armed with candid honesty and unadulterated love. You were one of a kind, and his fear was founded on that very fact. You were _one of a kind_ \- and he feared that he couldn't protect you like he used to.

Especially now that everything came to crash atop his shoulders, now that everything wrapped itself at his throat and trapped him in a state of suffocation.

Logan knew better than to believe that you didn't notice it. The way his mental state had made him snap repeatedly at the little girl in the back seat with Charles, the way he'd snapped at Charles and at you and he was losing it and he couldn't breathe.

He was older now, much older than when you'd first become a regular with his chauffeuring services. Much older than when he'd first pressed his lips to your forehead and then your nose and then your lips and told you to stop going out so late. Sure, he was still the same grouchy and coarse mess as before, but he was growing gray and he'd relied on you more than he wanted to admit. The almighty Wolverine relied on you to hold him up when the pain in his chest was too much and when the darkness became too blinding.

Laura had gone off to the truck- it wasn't her scene. This wasn't something the little girl had wanted to see: the man who'd given her life, with his lower lip trembling and his eyes burning red. She left the man, who held a shovel in one hand, and the woman, who gripped his shirt tight, to themselves. And as she sat in the truck, watching them from afar, tears pooled at the corners of her eyes when she felt the silence crawl over her flesh. The new absence of the old man she'd grown so very fond of was heavy in her chest.

Logan, too, had been very close to Charles. Close enough for him to feel so fucking terrible, so vulnerable and weak.

"We did what we could." You uttered softly, your own voice broken in the wind and not the least bit convincing.

" _You_ did what you could," Logan hissed, his bruised and bloodied knuckles turning white as he gripped the shovel tight, "I didn't do enough for him. I never did enough for him."

You remained quiet, watching from the corner of your eye as Logan dropped the shovel and stared at the burial before his feet. He was so very sorry that this was where Charles would end up. In the middle of nowhere, six feet underground. A shaky sigh left Logan's lips before hot and calloused flesh wrapped at his wrist- your fingers. And for some reason, the pain in his chest worsened.

The strength with which he'd grabbed your hand so desperately to his side was more than enough evidence that the man had let go of his pride just enough for tears to stain the tanned skin of his cheeks, spilling down into the graying of his beard. His fingers trembled as they gripped onto your hand, and then his lips fell open the slightest bit. "There's water..." He started shakily, the glassiness of his eyes moving to the pond to the side, and he tried again.

"There's water," He'd tried to speak on the thrice try, but he just fucking couldn't and he was growing angrier at himself. "I'm sorry." He breathed out, his jaw locked tight and his grip on your hand almost enough to snap your fingers in half. He released your hand, stomping down the small tree-covered hill and making his way to the truck.

Watching his back, you couldn't help the small and pathetic cry that left your lips when you'd realized this was all real. This was _happening_ , the world was falling apart and if Logan couldn't take it- how could _you_? And now that Charles Xavier, a great mentor whom you owed much of your success as a mutant to, was dead- where would you be guided to?

A knot chocked you and sent you into a wave of silent tears when you'd realized you would have to be a boulder in the tsunami, holding Logan down. His anger and impulsiveness and passion would send you all down the most dangerous path. So you lifted your head, wiped the tears away and gave the grave a last glance, a single moment of gratitude, and walked down after Logan.

Before he could even touch the handle of the door, you'd bumped his shoulder and tried to nudge him out of the way. With his sheer build and weight, he stood like a stone. But you weren't one to back down. He taught you better. "I'm driving."

"The hell you are."

" _I'm driving_." You growled out, and he watched you closely, his red-rimmed eyes squinting the slightest bit. "Logan, please. You need to rest, the last thing I want is to put Laura in danger with you driving half asleep."

Logan nearly fucking screamed when he remembered his daughter was in the truck. He remembered it wasn't a nightmare or a dream or a made up story and you were being serious.

"Just an hour." He grumbled, standing down and turning on the heel of his boot to move to the passenger side.

* * *

 

Just an hour easily melted into a handful of hours, and sundown was presented in apricots and lavenders all over the sky. Over the course of the drive, Laura and you had initiated small conversations in Spanish while Logan slept and snored through the hours. Luckily, Spanish was one of the dozens of languages your mind had enabled you to learn, so the conversations were easy to hold.

The little girl had smiled sadly at you through the rear view mirror several times, but you could tell she had cried when you weren't watching. You wanted to cheer her up. Death was hard to deal with. That was one thing that would never change.

Making up your mind last minute, you hastily pulled out of the highway and into a small rest stop. By that point, Laura was falling into a nap, but when the truck had rumbled over rubble and stones, she came back to consciousness. Conveniently, Logan decided to wake up as well, a low groan leaving his lips as he looked around.

The man looked worse for wear.

"What're we doing here?" He didn't sound quite happy. Last time a stop was made-

You turned the truck off after pulling into the parking lot, and you looked at Logan. "You look like shit."

"Fuck off." He grumbled, grabbing his side and moving to sit straighter.

"Logan, please. We need to stretch our legs. We'll wash up and grab some snacks, okay? Laura's hungry."

Logan looked back at Laura and then at you. Sighing, the older man ripped the keys from your hand and stuffed them into his back pocket before opening the door and hopping out with a huff of discomfort.

Shaking your head in mild amusement, you hopped out after Laura, and she walked at your side as you both followed behind Logan.

"Has he always been this grumpy?" Her voice was quiet. But wolves could hear anything.

Logan stopped dead in his tracks and turned swiftly to look at Laura, who stopped and stared at him in complete innocence.

"You **_talk_**!?"

"Si." You replied, your answer directed to both Laura and Logan's question.

"What the _fuck_ ," Logan breathed out in slight disbelief, slight irritation and frustration and he let out another growl before turning and storming off into the entrance of the small facility. Before entering, you looked over your shoulder to make sure none of the cars in the lot seemed familiar. Luckily, many were vans and SUVs, probably belonging to families who wanted to go on a camping trip in the woods nearby.

Logan waited for you at the glass door of the entrance, watching you before watching Laura move off into the brightly lit lobby. He caught a sliver of hopelessness crawl over your face before you turned to look at him. You followed behind him and nearly gasped at the cool air of the facility and the clean pristine floors. It wasn't as empty as you'd hoped it would be, but the families seemed harmless and the kids were mostly younger than Laura.

"Go wash up. I'll stay out here with Laura." You grabbed Logan's wrist before he could go after Laura, and he glared at you. "Logan, please, you smell."

He huffed. "You do too."

With that, you let him go and instead of going after Laura, he went off to the men's bathroom. The bathrooms were off to the left of the open lobby, and you could keep an eye on them through the glass walls of the shop that you'd gone into with Laura.

"Why does he do what you say?" Laura was soft spoken, her accent thick.

You snorted humorously, "Because he knows I'm right."

Laura giggled, her young face brightened the slightest bit. She lead you in circles before grabbing a small green hoodie with _SOUTH DAKOTA_ printed on the front. The facility was so poorly equipped with cameras that you were comfortable enough to grab something for Logan, but he wasn't the type for flashy style. Fortunately, you found a stand of mannequins modeling hoodies and tees and jackets just a few feet away.

Looking around and confirming that most of the people had left or weren't watching, you waved your hand down and one of the mannequins' torsos floated down to the floor before your feet. Laura watched your back as you bent down and undressed the mannequin, stealing the white t-shirt after checking it was Logan's size, or close enough, and ripping the blue button up from the body. After peeking over the racks, you lifted the naked torso onto its designated mannequin with a flick of your wrist.

Laura was smiling the entire time, especially so when you humored her and moved your fingers through the air in small and elegant patterns, ribbons of deep blue energy positioning the mannequin in questionable and humorous poses.

After cackling with the little girl, you told her to pick out anything she wanted from the vending machines.

"Anything?"

There was childish happiness on her face at that, and it expanded when you handed her a terribly kept twenty dollar bill.

"Anything."

Tucking the hoodie under her arm, Laura padded over to the vending machines against the wall on the other side of the shop. Looking over your shoulder to glance at the bathroom doors, you'd realized Logan had been in there for a while. Chewing on your lower lip, you waited a few minutes while Laura stuffed her arms with bags of chips and cookies and three bottles of sodas. When she said they were for you, Logan, and herself, you couldn't help the small tug at your heart.

For being Logan's daughter, or clone, you still couldn't quite understand, she was nothing like Logan.

Someone entered the shop and when you saw it wasn't Logan, you frowned and asked Laura to follow you. When you exited the dimly lit shop and entered the lobby once more, Laura asked if she could use the restroom to change and wash her face.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll be in here." You nodded, pointing to the bathroom that Logan had gone off into. A strange and teasing look passed onto the little girl's face- and you could suddenly see Logan's humor in her. " _Go_." 

Rearranging the snacks in her arms, Laura nodded and walked into the girl's bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her.

After hearing her shuffle around and turn the faucet on, you moved over to the men's bathroom and knocked on the door. "Logan?"

There was silence for a second before you knocked and called his name again. "What." His voice was gruff and you could hear the frustration lacing his deep tone.

"You doing okay? You've been in there for a while..."

He winced quietly, and a frown crawled onto your face as you tucked the clothes under your arm. Raising your hand to the door handle, a blue mist ran from the tips of your fingers and wrapped at the handle, and a soft click later, you were opening the door.

The sight before you was heart breaking. A state that you'd never thought you would find Logan in.

Standing over the sink, Logan's bare back heaved and contracted, muscles taut and sore as he hissed, one arm working a damp ball of tissue against a runny wound. You frowned and shut the door behind you, setting the clothes on the floor and walking up to him. "Here." He nudged your hand away when you tried to take the tissue from him.

He gave you a side glance, and in the poor lighting of the small bathroom, he looked terrible. _Old_. Your Logan was growing old and it broke your heart in half.

"Where's Laura?" Logan grounded out, his voice gruff while he tossed the red tissue to the large bin next to the sink.

"Bathroom next door. Now, let me help you." You tried again, taking the roll of toilet paper from the side of the toilet and gathering another ball.

"I said no."

"Turn around."

"No."

"Logan, turn around."

"No."

Before Logan can argue once more, that you're being melodramatic, it's just a flesh wound, a starry blue mist wraps at his hips and the sheer strength and pull forces him to turn to face you. The stare on his face was cold and angered, but his mouth remained shut as you smirked and wiggled your fingers in mock humor.

"Don't get cocky."

Logan leaned his hip against the edge of the sink, leaning in with you as you grabbed his hands and placed them under the faucet. His bare skin rubbed against you, and he took comfort in your presence. He was never the kind to say it, but he knew you were aware of it.

A small wince left his lips when your small hands worked against the reds and purples on his knuckles before pumping some soap into his hand. The sheer closeness, the lack of distance between your bodies had his chest pounding, and his eyes watched your face closely before he decided to cooperate with you wanting to help.

After helping him wash the wounds on his hands, you dampen a ball of toilet paper with hot water and guide him to sit on the closed cover of the toilet. At first, he refused, but you'd pushed him hard enough for his balance to falter. You didn't pay much attention to the fact that his torso was in full display, that he'd trusted you enough to show you that it hurt when you pressed the tissue against his wounds.

It took several minutes to get most of him cleaned up, but the wound on his side seemed to hurt him the most. Mumbling a soft apology, you knelt down before him and got close enough to feel his warmth. After you pressed another tissue to the dark wound in his side, Logan grabbed your wrist after releasing a wince.

"Sorry." Logan huffed out.

Cocking a brow at him, you tilted your head and asked, "Why're you sorry?"

"You were never supposed to see me like this. I never wanted you to see me like...like _this_."

The way Logan looked at you had your skin crawling and your throat knotting up. You never wanted to see him like this either, but he wasn't who he used to be. Or, he was, but he wasn't the Logan he wanted you to see. Strong and untouchable and young.

Logan's hair had darkened and grayed, his beard too, and his face was growing older and you wanted him to know it was okay. Soon, you would follow in age.

"Don't apologize for being human, Logan." You spoke gently, your voice soft and he couldn't look away from you. Years ago, he would've made a sarcastic comment about your indecent position between his legs, but now he wanted to grab you and hold you close and feel your heart against his. And when you began to tell him tales, he could almost ignore the sting in his side while you cleaned the wound up.

"Sometimes I'd go out just to call you and have you pick me up."

"Yeah, I know. I think I caught on to your little crush quick."

"Don't act like you didn't appreciate it." You teased him and snickered, "I think I was so crazy for you, after you saw what I could do and you didn't run away from me, you didn't leave me in the dust. I lost control and you helped me and part of the loneliness I lived died down. I never thanked you."

Logan watched you the entire time you spoke, a look of nostalgia lacing the small smirk on his face. "You thanked me several times."

Snorting at his comment, you shook your head and grabbed a dry tissue to pat down his wound and dry it down. "Is that why you kept coming back to me, then? The sex in your backseat was too good?"

"Partially."

" _Partially_."

The smug look on his face spoke volumes and you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled in your throat before your smile faltered the slightest bit.

Logan wasn't a chauffeur anymore, and you weren't a lone mutant having drunken nights every night anymore. You were in danger and so was he and so was Laura and Wolverine couldn't protect you like he used to. He couldn't do this alone.

"What are we gonna do after all of this?"

The question made his head spin and his fingers reached for yours, almost as if to grasp onto real life. What _could_ he do after this? There was nothing left. No Caliban, no Charles, no mutants, no one to understand either of you.

"I was thinkin' about takin' you home...and I'll..." He paused, "I don't know what I'll do."

"We're going home, Logan. You and me."

"No. Not with me."

"That's bullshit." You snapped almost too quickly, and Logan stared at you, "I'm not going to let you go anymore. It's you and me, okay? We'll get a small house, just you and me. In the woods, like you've always wanted. We can get a dog and it'll be nice-"

"I can't do that."

"Why?"

"Look at me." Logan motioned to himself, his beaten up self, "I'm fucking old."

" _No_." The look on your face was set. "Before all of this _shit_ happened, you told me you wished you could do so much with me. Once this is all over, we have the _opportunity_ , Logan," You spoke in a slight trance, "We have the opportunity to be happy and safe and you're _never_ too old for that."

The man looked at you from his position on the toilet's lid, and you almost wanted to look away and cower at the intensity in his honey colored eyes.

The silence was deafening, but Logan's mind was racing and jumbling up with images and sounds and smells. _A small house in the woods, tangled limbs under knitted blankets, a snoozing hound, a pile of raked leaves and quiet giggles and you and happiness and-_

The way you had been looking at him made his heart skip a beat, and he hated how corny it felt. You made him feel so many things at once that he didn't even know how to begin to express any. But he felt alive- and it was because of _you_. How could he think about letting you go?

"I'm namin' the dog."

Logan's gruff comment and serious face made yours scrunch up into a smile, and you laughed heartily before he shot you a slight look of reverence before he stood shakily, and you followed to help him pull on the clothes you got for him.

They fit him well, maybe a bit tight, but just enough to remind others that he could still snap a boulder in half if he wanted.

A muted groan left his lips while you adjusted the button up and brought it over his shoulders, his towering height did little to help. Tapping a gentle hand to his chest, you smile up at him. "Lookin' good for a guy that just got the shit beat outta him."

And a smug look flashed over Logan's sharp features as he looked down at you. It was similar to the movies, a wife fixing a husband's tie before work and sending him off with a kiss to the cheek.

But this was a different story, a different scene. It was you fixing him up to fight another day along your side and Logan can't help but think you're so fucking _stupid_ for following him. But he was stupid for being too selfish to let you go.

Sure he couldn't get any stupider, Logan reached for the nape of your neck and brought your face to his. The kiss was tight and heavy, overwhelmed with emotion and pain and something fueled by the pumping of his heart. For just a moment, Logan pulled away and looked at you, and he wanted to make sure your face was the first thing on his mind every morning and every night that would follow.

Love really _did_ make people stupid, he supposed.

Especially if he truly believed his days with you weren't counted.

 


End file.
